


Memories of Despair

by LoopyLiesey



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Comfort/Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-10 04:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21474307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoopyLiesey/pseuds/LoopyLiesey
Summary: Nagito wakes in the middle of the night with no idea where he is or how he got there. He's not alone.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 9
Kudos: 188





	Memories of Despair

When Nagito awoke, it was dark. He let his eyes adjust before taking in his surroundings. He was lying in a fairly comfortable bed, a thin linen sheet covering him and a person sharing the bed. The air was warm and humid, though a breeze was coming through a window, rustling the curtains, the moonlight filtering through.

The bed was in a room that seemed to be a small cabin. A bathroom was at the opposite end of the room. There also seemed to be a bookcase in the room, with some seating, and a table.

Why was he here? What had happened? The last thing Nagito remembered was Yukizome-sensei blowing up the classroom.

Nagito bolted upright. Despair. Enoshima had put them all into despair, but something wasn’t right. He remember despair, the way it mingled with hope inside him, but it was gone. Nagito didn’t know how, it was clear he was missing some memories, but the despair was gone.

Nagito reached up to place his hand on his forehead, noticing as he did so that his left arm was mechanical. An audible gasp escaped his mouth, and he sent a nervous glance toward his bed companion.

There was a spark of recognition as Nagito looked at the person sleeping soundly next to him. Though his hair was much shorted than Nagito remembered, he was certain it was Kamakura Izuru.

Nagito didn’t understand much of his situation, but if he was with Kamakura, then Enoshima had to have something to do with this.

Nagito looked around for a light source before deciding against it in fear of waking Kamakura. Instead, Nagito got out of the bed and moved over to the window, the moon shining through. Once at the window, he examined his mechanical arm. It seemed to be well crafted, the work of an Ultimate. Only Souda or Kamakura could have made it, but why would they? And how had Nagito lost his arm in the first place?

Shuffling started from the bed and Nagito looked over just as Kamakura sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Nagito? What are you doing?” Kamakura asked. Nagito said nothing, and went back to looking at the mechanical arm, his mind whirring with possibilities. If he was a prisoner, then this didn’t seem much like a prison. Was he here willingly? But why was he sharing a bed with Kamakura? At that thought, Nagito’s cheeks went red.

While in his thoughts, Kamakura got out of the bed, turning on the light and walking over to Nagito. He reached out to touch Nagito’s shoulder, but Nagito flinched away, looking up at Kamakura, and was surprised by what he saw. He remembered Kamakura having red eyes. He didn’t remember one of his eyes also being green.

“Are you okay?” Kamakura asked softly, far more emotion in his voice than Nagito thought Kamakura could even produce.

“Where are we?” Nagito asked, wanting answers before he did anything.

“Oh,” Kamakura said, recognition flickering in his eyes, “I’m not going to answer that right now. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“The classroom blowing up. Our deaths being faked,” Nagito said. Kamakura nodded, concern on his face.

“Do you want to sit down?” Kamakura asked, gesturing to the couch next to the bookcase. Nagito narrowed his eyes, not trusting Kamakura.

“I’m fine here,” Nagito replied. Kamakura looked somewhat amused by Nagito’s response.

“I’m going to sit,” Kamakura said, moving over to the couch. He wasn’t too far from Nagito, but wasn’t as close as he had been before, to Nagito’s relief.

“What happened to my arm? What happened to my memories?” Nagito asked.

“Unfortunately the memory issue is a side effect of the damage your brain has sustained after your lymphoma, dementia, and despair,” Kamakura explained, “While your illnesses have been cured, and you’re no longer in despair, the damage is permanent.”

“Wait, cured?” Nagito questioned. Kamakura nodded.

“I made sure of it,” Kamakura said firmly.

“Why would you do that? You should have just let me die,” Nagito said, starting to laugh. Kamakura stood up instantly, moving closer to Nagito. It looked like he was going to reach out to Nagito before changing his mind. Nagito was still laughing, though it was mixed with sobs.

“I care about you too much to let that happen,” Kamakura said.

“Who are you to care about me?” Nagito demanded, “I’m worthless trash, and you’re Enoshima’s lackey!”

“I’m Enoshima’s nothing!” Kamakura hissed, before closing his eyes and taking a breath, “Sorry. I don’t want to take my anger out at you, you’re already confused. But trust me when I say I hate Enoshima.” Nagito narrowed his eyes. Was this some tactic Kamakura was using to get Nagito to trust him?

“Will my memories come back?” Nagito asked, changing the subject. Kamakura nodded.

“They always do. I try not to confuse you too much, which is why I won’t answer some questions,” Kamakura said.

“I don’t think I could get much more confused,” Nagito said. Kamakura gave Nagito a wry smile, sitting back down.

“You’d be surprised,” Kamakura said. Nagito shrugged, going back to looking at the mechanical arm. The idea that he’d lost his arm somehow (did he even want to remember that?), and then was replaced by this was fascinating to him.

“Kamakura?” Nagito said after a few moments.

“Izuru,” Kamakura corrected, “Well. I don’t like that much either, but I’d prefer it.”

“Right,” Nagito said, confused, “Anyway. Did you make this arm?”

“Yes,” Kamakura said. Nagito nodded.

“I suppose how I lost my arm is one of those things you can’t tell me?” Nagito asked.

“I don’t want to upset you,” Kamakura said, “Best not to discuss it.” Nagito sighed and nodded.

“The memories returning will be easier on you if you’re asleep,” Kamakura said after a few moments of silence. Nagito shook his head.

“No, I’m not sleeping,” Nagito said firmly, his eyes still glued to the mechanical arm. He drew his fingers across the join between the flesh of his left arm and the metal of the prosthetic.

“Does this come off?” Nagito asked.

“Yes, would you like me to help you?” Kamakura asked, moving across the room again to Nagito. Nagito hesitated before nodding. He needed to satisfy his curiosity. Kamakura made light work of removing the prosthetic arm, his fingers lightly brushing against the stump of Nagito’s arm as the prosthetic was pulled off.

Nagito looked at the stump of his left arm for a moment before moving his right hand up to investigate. As he touched the end of the stump, violent images came crashing into Nagito’s head, images of him cutting off his own arm, Enoshima dead before him. Replacing his arms with hers. Without thinking, Nagito dashed to the bathroom, hurling into the toilet bowl.

As he threw up, he sobbed, memories of the last few years flashing through his head, the pain of it all at the forefront. He was shaking, and as he threw up the last of his stomach contents, he felt Hajime’s arms wrap around him.

“I’m sorry, love,” Hajime whispered, “I’ll remember that’s a trigger next time.”

“I hate this,” Nagito moaned, burying his face in Hajime’s chest, “I hate going through it all again. Over and over.” Hajime softly rubbed Nagito’s back, and kissed the top of his head, his other hand curling into Nagito’s hair. Nagito continued to sob, Hajime’s shirt getting soaked through as Hajime murmured reassuring words.

The pair stayed on the bathroom floor for about half an hour before Nagito had calmed down enough for Hajime to help him back to bed. Hajime convinced Nagito to have some water before they lay back down in the bed, Hajime holding Nagito close. 

“I’m sorry,” Nagito said, his head resting on Hajime’s shoulder.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Hajime replied.

“I’m a huge mess, I’m sorry you have to put up with it,” Nagito continued.

“And I’m not a mess?” Hajime asked, “I take care of you because I love you. That’s all there is to it.” Nagito closed his eyes.

“I love you. I wish I’d stop forgetting you,” Nagito said. Hajime’s grip around Nagito tightened slightly.

“We should go back to sleep,” Hajime said softly. Nagito nodded sleepily, taking comfort in Hajime’s presence.

**Author's Note:**

> This came to me during the night so the beginning is written on paper. Do you know how long it's been since I wrote a fanfic on PAPER? This fandom has claimed me completely now.


End file.
